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Kong Qingdong, Peking University — What a Disgrace!

2006/6/12 20:23:07

Who is Kong Qingdong? I originally had little idea. The first time I heard of him was at a private gathering where a PKU professor said that PKU professors nowadays include all sorts of people — for example XXX, XXX, XX — and among those named was this Kong fellow. The professor even added at the end: "even worse than XXX." (That last XXX is a profession name, which, being rather indelicate, shall remain XXX.) At the time I thought it was probably just scholars disdaining each other over political or other disagreements. Later, this Kong fellow started appearing on television, always with the same tagline: something about being the Nth-generation descendant of Confucius, Old N1. This is nothing unusual — a rat's son doesn't have to dig holes. If you've got real talent, what does Confucius, Old N1 times N2, your N1/N2th grandfather, matter? But today, I happened to see this Nth-generation grandson of Kong parading around online with his so-called seven-character regulated verse, and I cannot help but say: Kong Qingdong, Peking University — what a disgrace!

PKU's Chinese department claims to be number one or two in the nation, and is also one of PKU's top one or two flagship departments. Therefore, having a basic competency requirement for its professors is certainly not unreasonable. Since it's a seven-character regulated verse — one he's been parading around as his own proud work — at the very least it shouldn't be false advertising. It should at least be an actual regulated verse. Yet, never mind that even with current oil shortages the lines shouldn't be so greasy, when it comes to the most kindergarten-level tonal patterns and rhyming, this PKU Chinese department talent and professor actually fails to pass! Let me take a cursory look at the one with the fewest prosodic problems:

Crossing the Bridge (Kong Qingdong)

All day roaming immortal realms, reveling in the ninth heaven; this body suddenly arrives at the Bridge of Helplessness.
In Fengdu City, a thousand friends call; in the Garden of Eden, swarms of ghosts beckon.
Hauling pulleys endlessly without feeling tired; gazing through iron walls, sighing at futility.
Hiding ice and burying fire to dissolve the divine sword; a lone horse in the west wind, listening to the great tide.

May I ask Associate Professor Kong: do you know that regulated verse must use Pingshui rhyme? Do you know that the Er Xiao and Si Hao rhyme groups cannot be mixed? Do you know that "lao" is off-rhyme? Do you know what entering-tone characters are? Do you know that "hua" is an entering-tone character? Do you know that "tiao jin hua che bu jue lei" is not a proper tonal line? Do you know that couplets cannot be "joined-palm" parallelism? Do you know that "bu jue lei" cannot be paired with "tan tu lao"? There are heaps more problems — I won't bother listing them. Go find them yourself! Of course, Professor Kong is not entirely without merit. At least he informs us of this historical story: after Adam and Eve departed, the Garden of Eden — which had only a snake and a few apple cores left — has finally been overrun by a swarm of ghosts!

The ancients knew to conceal their weaknesses; modern people love to flaunt their deficiencies. This is probably the basic description of the Kong phenomenon. The above merely touches on the most elementary prosodic issues. As for the poem itself — one look tells the discerning all they need to know. Poetry is poetry. Attempting to attach various other agendas to poetry, and doing so for the sake of those attachments, is no different from a certain special industry. Since he so loves using poetry for such games, this ID suggests that Associate Professor Kong might henceforth write fortune-telling slips and talismans at a temple — that would probably be a better fit.

Of course, one could go on about the likes of Lu Xun and such — after all, that Lu Xun was at that level, always the sort who liked to hint at something through talk of "washing feet." And now, simply licking the feet of the May Fourth brats is enough to become a professor — a professor who also howls and peddles. This is probably the most fundamental reason why today's Kong is today's Kong, and PKU is today's PKU.